Along the Way
by SuavePanda
Summary: A collection of Jasper arcs, drabbles, and one-shots ranging from fluff to angst and back again.
1. Along the Way

Things do not change; we change.

Henry David Thoreau

* * *

"Hey, watch it!"

The charred pumpkin seed falls just short of Piper's head, still smoking as it settles into the dirt. Leo grins lopsidedly at her. "Sorry, Beauty Quee-"

Piper groans and punches him halfheartedly. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Apparently not enough," Jason supplies. He sends another seed whirling in the air with a flick of his wrist; a curl of flame peels away from Leo's fingers and envelopes it briefly. Piper tilts her head back expectantly, and the seed lands squarely on her tongue. It burns as she swallows.

Leo shrugs, reaching for the bowl of seeds set between the three of them, and slings an arm around Piper. "We're all friends here."

Piper smiles sweetly back at him and pushes him off her. "Leo, make friends with the ground."

He scrunches up his nose. "Don't go trying to Charmspeak me again. Nyssa still teases me about the campfire thing."

Jason smiles and spins a seed above his palm. "Don't forget when you took that scarf and-"

"Not in front of the children!" Leo wails, covering his hands with his ears. Grace from Apollo, on her way to the arena, hears and waves; Leo sits up straighter, his eyes following her as she disappears. "Nope," he says quietly to himself. "Definitely can't do_ that_ in front of the children."

Piper gasps and smacks him and Jason just laughs, and soon they're all giggling, leaning forward and falling over one another, heads bent together over the bowl of seeds.

It's better than any of them could have thought, having two best friends.

* * *

Piper isn't sure quite what it is, but there's something fantastic in dancing wildly on the volleyball court barefoot. Both she and Leo are laughing giddily as they jerk back and forth, and she spins him and catches him, dipping him as low as she can. He's nearly hysterical as he bursts into the deep kind of laughter that only comes once in a while and her shoulders are quaking with the effort not to drop him and she feels happier than she has in a while.

Leo's laughter is so irrepressible that he has gone silent, and he shakes uncontrollably, tears rolling down his face as he grips her arms.

"I'm going to drop you if you don't hold still," Piper manages to warn, but still he chortles, and her insides are wonderfully warm. Piper hadn't really had many friends before discovering she was a demigod, let alone best friends, and standing under the hot sun trying desperately to support the pyrokinetic ignites her with a glee that is slowly, to her delight, becoming familiar.

Finally Leo staggers back to his feet, and Piper has to lean into him to stay upright herself. She hugs him loosely as her laughs get louder and more boisterous until she's guffawing and he is too, and her ribs ache and spasms wrack her and someone taps her shoulder.

His smile is blinding. "Mind if I join you?"

Piper can only nod, wiping at her eyes, and then Jason's arms are around her waist and she's spinning into the air and when she finds her way back down she's improbably close to him, their foreheads pressed together, and she thinks she'd like to kiss him but Leo's already hauling Jason away and then the two boys are wrestling. Still, Piper's feet do not touch the ground, and when Jason smiles over Leo's shoulder it's for her and her alone.

She wonders, for a moment, if Jason was jealous, and then she's laughing all over again.

* * *

"Have you seen Piper?"

Jason's long gotten used to the kind of look his question garners from the Demeter kids as they attempt to save the flowers in front of the Big House from the Hermes cabin: they smile knowingly, as if he's wearing a shirt that reads _Hey everyone, I like Piper_. Sometimes it bothers him, everyone thinking they know him and are privy to his personal business; sometimes he wishes Piper could see through him as clearly as the rest of camp can.

"By the forest, I think," one of them calls, and Jason nods, ignoring the kissing sounds the Stolls are making as they trample geraniums underfoot.

He finds her with Lacy and a nymph next to possibly the most gnarled tree he has ever seen. "Mind if I borrow you for a second?" Jason asks, trying to hide his smile.

Lacy and the nymph are giggling behind their fingers and gods is he really that obvious?

But Piper doesn't seem to notice, and so he beckons her a safe distance away, bursting to tell her what he saw only a few minutes ago.

He pulls her behind a hickory, cups a hand over her ear, and whispers, "I caught Leo and Grace kissing."

Piper pulls away and stares at him disbelievingly. "As in, Leo kissing Grace, or like _Leo and Grace kissing?_"

"Leo and Grace kissing," Jason affirms, and now the smile won't stay hidden. "Is that good blackmail material or what?"

Piper laughs and leans against the tree, shaking her head. "I guess I never thought he had it in him."

"You thought Leo wouldn't kiss a girl?" Jason asks incredulously.

She laughs again. "I thought Leo wouldn't be able to get a girl to kiss him back," she clarifies, and then her gaze slides to Jason. "It's a process, getting a girl to kiss you, you know."

"I don't know," Jason responds in the same teasing tone, and something knots in him when he realizes they're flirting.

"Well," Piper begins, pushing herself off the trunk. "You have to be nice, and probably funny, and being hot wouldn't hurt…"

Jason nods and murmurs emphatically in all the right places, but he's too busy taking mental notes to reply.

* * *

"You're really warm."

It's the first thing that comes to mind, but Jason wishes it hadn't been as he says it, unthinking, in the frosty air. Piper stares at him openly, and the question in her eyes is unavoidable.

"I mean," Jason rambles, "it's cold out, and you're… warm." He shifts next to her. The heat of the campfire doesn't quite reach the two of them, who are huddled further away than normal from the nightly festivities. "So…"

"So?" Piper presses. He can hear the smile in her voice.

"So, I'm cold." And before he can think better of it, Jason unwraps one slowly freezing arm and pulls her into his cocoon of blankets and sweatshirts.

Jason isn't sure, but he thinks she's still smiling as he tugs her in front of him, her unnaturally warm back to his shivering chest, and settles his chin on her shoulder.

Jason crosses his arms over Piper, and her shoulders fit perfectly between his.

He is suddenly, wildly glad Leo decided to sit with the Hephaestus cabin.

* * *

Sometimes, they go out into the forest and have screaming contests.

It was Leo who came up with the idea; the three of them had been waiting for a monster to show up, lounging, really, as they talked about training and the two newest demigods. And Leo had stood up, puffed out his chest, and let out an earsplitting scream.

Both Piper and Jason nearly jumped out of their skin, but it proved an effective technique for attracting monsters. And so eventually it had turned into a game, and they would all shriek at the top of their lungs until some grotesque being slithered out of the shadows.

It wasn't too painful to hear from camp, but the sounds were distinct. Still, neither the friends nor the camp made any fuss of it until some anonymous camper wondered aloud exactly why they were screaming, as none of them had ever shared their secret monster-attracting tactic. And the answer came as it would to any normal (and by extension, perverted) teenager: the three of them together were engaging in less than appropriate activities which should only be carried out by married people.

Leo had a good laugh over that and continued over to Grace, who miraculously was still with him. Jason and Piper laughed too, but not nearly as sincerely, because the accusation struck an invisible chord called _I've had a crush on this person for months, and screaming with them in the middle of a forest means more than it should_.

One day, they decided to try and face this chord. The conversation went like this:

Piper: "So, Jason-"

Jason: "So, Piper-"

Pause.

Jason: "I've been meaning to tell you…"

Piper: "What?"

Jason: "You go first."

Piper: "Oh. Okay."

Jason: "Okay."

Piper: "Okay."

Jason: "We have to stop saying 'okay'."

Piper: "Oka- I mean, fine. Jason, I wanted to tell you that I- I- That is, I was wondering if you wanted to go scream in the forest?"

Jason: "Okay."

And even though neither of them could bring themselves to face the chord, it seemed to be coming into focus of its own accord, and that was perfectly all right with both of them.

* * *

Piper doesn't know why Jason's holed himself up in his cabin, why there are multiple blast marks on the walls of Cabin One, why he's shaking and ranting and crying silent tears. She steps in cautiously, careful to alert him of her presence so he doesn't electrocute her accidentally, and pulls him gently down to the floor with her. She hugs him and she rocks him and she watches him ride it out until the sky is dark and his sobs have been muffled by sleep, and when she wakes up in the morning he's curled into her almost desperately. Piper considers leaving; she has a cabin to tend to, after all. But he searches out her hand and holds it, and she can't find it in her to go. This is the first time she entertains the idea of loving him.

* * *

"So, guys," Leo says, propping himself up on his elbows as they sprawl in the field, "you really need to get together soon."

Jason can feel his face heating, and a glance at Piper reveals the same blush spreading across her cheeks. "Leo-"

"The entire camp is getting antsy," Leo continues, as if the dynamics between Jason and Piper are a popular reality show. "If you don't get a move on soon, things could turn nasty."

"Get a move on?" Piper splutters. "Leo, what the_ fu_-"

"Um," Jason says, hurriedly getting to his feet. "Um, I have to go… somewhere."

As he stumbles away, Jason thinks he hears Leo laughing.

He's almost to the arena, ready to knock some unsuspecting camper off his block, when familiar fingers latch onto his shoulder.

"Jason," she begins, eyes trained firmly on her feet. "I'm sorry about that. Leo's-"

"A bastard," Jason finishes, and now Piper meets his gaze and they can smile at the truth of the statement.

"A scar on the face of humanity," Piper offers, and she's fallen in step with him.

"The root of all suffering," Jason says, swinging her hand with his. "The source of all pain."

"And fucking annoying at that," Piper says, and then they're kissing.

Jason pulls away and grins crookedly at her. "He's dickhead."

"A pretentious, nosy, insufferably egotistic dickhead," Piper agrees, and kisses him again.

Jason pulls Piper closer. Maybe he won't shock Leo after all.


	2. Et Tu

_Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind._

_"Pooh!" he whispered._

_"Yes, Piglet?"_

_"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."_

A.A. Milne

* * *

It's warm when Piper steps out, and once she reaches the campfire the air is stifling. The flames are feverish and billowing, and laughter smears, honey in the night. People are happy.

She moves cautiously around a stain of mud from yesterday's rain, thinks better off it, and slips off her shoes. The wet dirt swallows her toes, and Piper smiles. Mud is so normal.

The masses swallow her just as easily. Will twirls her, but all she really wants is to go sleep. The Argo II is halfway done. Her life is halfway over.

_Don't be so dramatic_, she scolds herself. _New people, new places. You've always wanted to see the world._

_Yeah, _she thinks_. Just not like that._

Piper understands why everyone is so excited. Three more months and their hero will be found. And then she and six other kids—gods, they're all still children, can't even drink—go to Greece and save the world. Or else.

Whose idea was this, exactly?

Oh, right. Hera. Piper is beginning to empathize with Annabeth's animosity toward the goddess.

She wanders. Great thick curls of smoke wind away from the blaze, bleeding out into the sky, and the orange light throws reckless contrast over the entire affair. Everything is blushed tangerine.

It takes a while to find an unoccupied place to sit. The log is rough against her legs, and Piper is glad she hadn't agreed to the skirt Lacy wanted her to wear. Piper isn't a skirt girl.

From her vantage point, secluded by the carved pillars of a cabin, the festivities are a blur. _Why can't I just enjoy myself?_

Of course, she knows the answer. They celebrate because they're getting their hero back. Piper is losing hers.

Jason can't stay at Camp Half-Blood. The leader switch is temporary. And besides the entire merging fiasco, there is nothing for him at camp. Sure she and Leo are here, and Thalia comes by with the Hunters every once in a while, but Jason's world is across the country, and sooner or later he will return to it.

"Um, hi?"

She starts. It's Kiri, a recently claimed daughter of Hebe; Piper realizes she has been leaning against the Hebe Cabin. Ironic, considering Hebe is a shadow of Aphrodite.

Kiri seems determined to live up to her heritage. She slides down next to Piper, watching the older girl. Somewhere in the fray Piper hears a hoot; Leo. _At least someone's happy, _she thinks, and her mouth tastes bitter.

"It's nice back here, isn't it?"

Piper glances at Kiri, who gives no sign of leaving anytime soon. "It's quiet," Piper says, and doesn't offer more.

"Yeah," Kiri says, staring at Piper unabashedly. "I guess things get a little loud." She falls silent, and the party throbs thirty feet away. Someone had put on music, a hyperactive frenzy of metallic trills and shrieks. The campfire would be hell to clean up in the morning.

Piper is contemplating walking back to her cabin and wrapping herself in blankets when Kiri hesitantly touches her arm.

"You're upset," Kiri says.

Sudden, bright anger. "Who told you to come over here?"

Kiri retreats. "Nobody—I just saw—"

"I'm fine," Piper pronounces. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not upset!"

"Piper." Small fingers on Piper's wrist trace to her hand. A fist. Kiri slowly pulls the fingers back, presses Piper's palm to the ground.

"I am fine," Piper repeats, but the emotion has gone and she's too tired to call it back.

"You can tell me," Kiri says, her voice falling away into a whisper.

"You're barely eleven," mutters Piper.

"I'm fourteen. My birthday is in two months."

The fingers still held firmly against Piper's hand are tiny. "Fourteen?" Disbelief borders on incredulity. "But you're so… small."

Kiri scoffs.

The walls go up. "Look, I didn't mean to offend—"

"No, sorry," Kiri says, scoffing again, and Piper gets it. "That's just how I laugh."

"Yeah," Piper agrees awkwardly, glad for the shadows hiding her flush.

Kiri scuffs her feet in the dirt. Both of them are barefoot, Piper notices, and then realizes she's forgotten her shoes in the chaos. Between her toes mud dries, cracking perfectly into polygons and quadrilaterals that flake away as she curls her feet.

"I got it from my dad. He's really short." Kiri looks up, graces the tension with a smile. "Like, shorter than me."

"My dad—" Piper begins, stopping herself. She isn't sure if Kiri knows who her father is, and she doesn't want to tangle whatever small peace she has managed to find here under the Hebe cabin with Kiri.

"—is the celebrity crush of half of your cabin," Kiri finishes, and Piper doesn't know whether to be embarrassed or grateful.

"And Aphrodite," Piper adds, then points at herself. "Proof."

Kiri scoffs—giggles—and for a moment Piper feels normal, talking about the oddities of parents with another girl, gossiping, and so inevitably it is then that the calm is broken.

"Piper!"

And inevitably, it is broken by _him_.

She tries not to look, tries to concentrate on Kiri, but the girl has melted into the night and Piper is alone on the carved steps of Cabin Eighteen.

"What're you doing here?" She means for it to sound detached, without feeling, but instead she breathes it out and it is much too weighted a question and he sits beside her much too close. His knees brush against her outstretched legs. Her feet are thoroughly covered in dirt.

"I was looking for you," he says absently. Coughs. "I mean, I haven't seen you…"

"Things getting too boring without me to liven things up?"

Teasing. Joking. But his eyes—cerulean even under the dim light of the moon—bore into hers, and his hands squirm in his lap. "Yeah," he says, and smiles, but there is no hint of flippancy in the way his brow draws into a knot and his shoulders hunch together. "Actually, I was kind of hoping we could talk." He says it as if it's a question, as if Piper would ever not want to talk.

She says, "Sure, Jason."

* * *

He leads her to the strawberry fields. This time of year, the fields are empty, only the faint outlines of rows and withered stems marking the soil as farmland at all. Soon the Demeter kids will be planting. As the first roots push up out of the ground, Piper will leave Camp Half-Blood.

_By the time the berries are harvested, I will either have died or saved the world._

All in the course of a strawberry.

Because the fields ring the valley that the camp is nestled in, Piper can still see the fire burning tall and bright, a hundred silhouettes converging and digressing in front of it in one encompassing dance.

Silence weaves comfortably between the two of them, gentle, and she is beginning to think they can just watch the sky and sit across from each other when he speaks.

His voice is a whisper. "So you didn't feel like partying?"

"No," she whispers back, because it's true.

"It gets old after a while," he admits.

"Why don't you try a new party then?" she says, and she hates that resentment seeps from her words.

His face, which had been tilted to the stars, turns to her, and his forehead wrinkles again. "Piper. We have to talk."

"We are talking."

"No. I mean…" He drops to his back, flinging his legs out, and gestures abstractly in the air. "We have to talk about stuff. Like the quest. And the Argo II, and going to Camp Jupiter."

In spite of herself, Piper laughs. "It's called Camp Jupiter? I bet that didn't go to your head at all."

"Never," he says solemnly, and she is reminded yet again of his ability to mask his emotions so perfectly when he doesn't want them seen. Then he smiles and she laughs.

"That's twice," he says, catching her chin in one rough hand, and Piper doesn't know whether to be indignant or ecstatic.

"Twice what?"

He hesitates, gives her a lopsided grin. "Twice now you've laughed. I thought you were depressed or something."

"Me, depressed? Next you'll be saying Leo is sane."

He shakes his head. "I don't know. But seriously—" He props himself up on his elbows. "You've been kind of… weird."

She knows her face is reddening and is suddenly grateful for the solidity of the night. "How so?"

"Like, how come you didn't come to the bonfire? A daughter of Aphrodite who doesn't want to go to a party?" He pokes her. "You're either terminal or something's up."

Giggling before she can stop herself—why does she get so damn fluttery around him?—she pokes him back. "I'm not terminal. And…"

"Yeah?"

They're both sitting up now, facing each other. He leans his arms on his knees, openly staring, and she can't look back. Instead she focuses on the pieces of grass that have lodged in his short hair; above his left ear, a splintered twig has managed to tangle itself. _His hair is longer now_, she notices; _it looks good._

And of course one particularly shaggy bang falls over his nose and leads her gaze directly to his searching eyes.

He says, "Tell me," and something in his voice makes her look up.

"The war's making me feel edgy," she confesses. A half truth.

"Oh." He rocks back. "Me too. But I'm not— Will you stop that?"

His fingers close around hers; she hadn't realized she'd been braiding. The strands come apart, an expert plait dissipating back into her usual ragged hair.

He fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "Distracting," he says sheepishly, and briefly she wonders how braids are distracting.

"Okay. I'm done." She holds out her hands; his fingers are still locked around hers. "You going to uncuff me now, Officer?"

He smiles back at her, but she knows her attempt to avoid the imminent conversation is in vain. _Might as well get it over with._

"You were saying something," she presses. "You're not what?"

"I'm not avoiding everybody," he responds bluntly, and his pointed look at her makes it undoubtedly clear what he is implying. "Piper, we're all scared. But you're out here, and they're down there."

Feeling ridiculously childish, she says, "You're here too.

Jason sighs. "Yeah, because I went and found you. So something's up." Both her hands are in his and borders are blurred. "Seriously, I'm not going to think worse of you. Who am I to judge?"

She can almost see Leo rolling his eyes and saying _bitch please_, even though Leo is the last thing she wants to be thinking about when their knees are touching and Jason's still gripping her hands and staring at her—but then, that's because she hasn't answered yet.

"I just—" She fumbles for another lie. "I'm the weak link. I can't—I don't have, like, a real power, and I'm new to this. Leo too, but he's pyrokinetic, and the rest of you…"

He hugs her, hard, and guilt swells in her throat.

"Listen to me," he begins, voice muffled in her hair. "You are as important as everybody else. Gods, you're in charge of making sure we don't get shot out of the air when we get to camp. That is definitely important. And when we were—"

"Stop." She fists his shirt, suddenly afraid he'll recoil. "I lied. That isn't it. I mean, I care about that stuff too, but that's not what I was thinking about."

_Tell him._

Jason's breath tickles her neck. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She leans back.

_Just do it fast, all at once, like ripping off a Band-Aid._

"I thought maybe—when we get to your camp, maybe you'll forget about us." She trips over her words to explain. "You forgot it so quickly, everyone you knew, your whole life; I know it was Hera, but still, you haven't known us all that long and… you might."

"How could I forget?" Jason throws out his arms, waving first at the festivities still in full swing around the fire and then at Piper herself. "Camp Half-Blood is, I don't even know, it's amazing." His eyes slide back to her, imploring. "That's really why?"

"Yeah," she says, rocking back on herself and avoiding his gaze. _He must think I'm some sort of simpering idiot._

He hunches forward, pulling up grass stems and splitting the stems until his fingers can't find purchase on the scraps that are left. An airplane arcs overhead, apparent only by the consistent blinking of twin red lights on its wings tracking its passage across the sky.

"Why are you upset now?"

She looks up, startled; that hadn't been the question she was expecting. She shrugs, giving him a rueful smile. "I thought I'd get in and get out; make myself thoroughly dejected before everyone else and, you know, be the strong one for once when you ditch us."

He sighs loudly. "You keep talking like it's actually going to happen, and it's not."

"But what if it does?"

"But nothing. This whole thing is about bringing the camps together; what would all this be for otherwise?" he argues, pointing at the dark shape of the ship where it was just visible past the bonfire. "We're in this together," he adds, and she'd be stupid to not see the meaning under the words.

"Still," she says. He may not want to admit it, but she and the rest of the Greek camp are only a comma in the story of his life; a stepping stone from one place to another.

"Seriously," he says, "what's it going to take to convince you?"

She shrugs again, bare toes dug into the dirt.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, softer; she is swatting a gnat away from her leg when he kisses her.

It isn't the first time they've kissed. Once she had found him on his back at Zeus's Fist. He'd sat up when he heard her, beginning to ramble immediately.

"I was thinking," he'd said. "You know how the sky is blue because that's the color that shines through best during the day? What if sometimes—not all the time, just, I don't know, occasionally—there'd be this break where everyone everywhere was asleep, and the sky turned green? Like not the green before a tornado, but green like a leaf." And then he had showed her the leaf color he had in mind, courtesy of a nearby oak.

She'd kissed him then to shut him up, and then they'd gone about their days. But this isn't some roundabout way to tell her she is blabbering; this is his hands firmly on her jaw, the length of her nose traced by his finger, wonderful pressure behind her tightly closed eyes as he kisses her once, twice, and then his breath ghosting her ear as he whispers, cheeky,

"Convinced?"

She pretends to mull it over. "Maybe."

His mouth settles over hers lightly, briefly, their hands laced for a moment, the way a first kiss should be. His eyes open a second after hers.

"How about now?" he asks, already leaning in again.

"Almost there," she tells him, and is rewarded when he pulls her into his lap, arms draped around her shoulders. It's better than the others and leaves her breathless, but though kissing Jason—_kissing Jason—_is, well, great, it doesn't erase her worries. If anything, it intensifies them.

He touches his forehead to hers, and she is grateful for his silence as she collects herself.

"Jason," she says, "In case it isn't already blatantly obvious, I like you. A lot."

His smile nearly makes her reconsider her decision, but it has been hard enough on both of them as it is. She doesn't need to make things any worse.

"But," she continues, carefully untangling herself from him, "there's a lot going on right now, and no matter what you say, you have a life to go back to and we have a war to fight. And…"

_I can't believe I'm doing this._

"For now," she says, holding his stare, "we're busy. We have to prepare, and come on—how could you not have somebody waiting for you?" He starts to protest, but she shushes him. "Look. We can't do this, whatever it is. Not now."

"Not now?"

"After we fight Gaia, if we're…alive, if it still seems like right thing, then."

"Piper, we're going to win this. And why should we wait if it's the right thing now?"

She hesitates, wondering whether to be candid or tactful. _The world is at stake. Might as well be blunt._

"Don't you think it'd be worse if one of us died while we were dating instead of just being friends?"

"We're not going to die—"

"You can't know that." She knows the fear is irrational, but she forges on. "And what if we get to Camp Jupiter and there's some girl there? What would happen to Annabeth if Percy had decided to find a new girlfriend?"

He sighs again. "I have most of my memories back. Don't you think I would know if I had a girlfriend?"

"That's the thing. I have no idea." She turns his hands over in hers. "But if we win, and if you don't have a girlfriend, and if I still like you—"

He grins crookedly at her. "How could you not?"

"—then we'll try. Deal?"

He presses his hand against hers, palm to palm, finger to finger. "That's a tall order."

"I know."

"But you can't stop me from being your friend."

"I know," she says.

He smiles and stands, pulling her to her feet with him. His grip on her hand is reassuring.

"Deal," he says, and they shake on it.

* * *

The noise is deafening. Next to Piper, Leo hoots and is swallowed into the fray; hands reach out to thump her back, squeeze her shoulder. She walks, numb, through New Rome.

_We did it._

Even as Gaia had screamed, sinking back into the earth, even as the last giant had disappeared, as the Earth Goddess had been torn from her host and thrown back to places darker than Tartarus, it hadn't sunk in. Now it does.

_We won._

She notices Clarisse hollering, thrust up over the crowd on a seat of shields, fist waving in the summer air. Gwen has Dakota against a pillar and is kissing him without a thought to the meelee all around. Reyna stands in the distance, stoic, but Piper can see the euphoria in the other girl's pride filled gaze.

_It's over._

She is spun around, and Jason is smiling, grinning, beaming at her. He swings her hand.

"So, Piper. Ready to make good on that promise?"

_It's only just begun._


	3. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

_And I was thinking to myself,_

_This could be heaven or it could be hell_

The Eagles—Hotel California

* * *

"Ready…aim…fire!"

I whistle out the enormous breath I just took and watch with satisfaction as a myriad of bubbles speeds towards Piper. A perfect line drive.

The thing about being able to control powerful winds is that, when the air is funneled through a tiny bubble blower, the bubble syrup runs out pretty fast. We've already gone through two bottles, and after my bubble wand comes up dry after a thorough dunking in the latest bottle, I lean down to unscrew another.

Piper takes the opportunity to blow a giant bubble at me. It is so big that it isn't perfectly round; it wavers in the breeze but floats steadfastly in my direction. I notice that her hands glisten; she must have caught my bubble torrent with her fingers.

I blow on the bubble and it quivers, turning to drift in the direction of the fire pit. Piper scowls at the easy defeat, but hey; she was the one who wanted a bubble war, and she knows all about my power over wind.

Instead of using my bubble wand, I guide out a healthy dose of the shimmering liquid by pushing it with air. I hold it in front of me, careful not to drop any, and exhale. The liquid stretches into one long stream, a bubble ribbon.

"Very impressive," Piper says, and pops it.

"Hey!" I look at the empty space where my beautiful bubble used to be. "What was that for? That was hard to do, you know!"

She smirks and shakes her head. "This is a bubble _war_, not a bubble garden party. So don't go all SpongeBob on me and freak out when my bubbles kick your bubbles' asses."

"_SpongeBob_?"

"Yeah." Piper waves her wand. "What?"

"What the hell is SpongeBob?"

She stares at me incredulously. "You don't know what SpongeBob is?"

"Should I?" I begin to wonder whether I should be embarrassed that I have no idea what SpongeBob is.

"Um, yes!" She drops her wand back into the bottle. "It's—Are you serious?"

Now I'm blushing. "Yeah."

"Come on, then." She strides past me, grabbing my arm as she goes (not that I notice that she does, and not that I care this means she is less than two feet away), ignoring our war supplies spread out on the grass in front of my cabin. "It's this show. You have to see it. I can't believe you've never see it."

I struggle to understand. "It's good, then?"

"Gods, no. It's terrible." She's steering me toward the Big House.

"So why do you want me to see it?"

She nearly runs up the steps and across the porch, me still limply in tow. "It's basically all the failures of America wrapped up in one show." She pauses to evaluate me. "You really have never seen an episode of SpongeBob?"

I'm getting frustrated. "No!".

"What did you even do at the Roman Camp?" Piper is mumbling to herself now as she leads me to the attic. "Play bridge?"

"We trained," I say defensively.

She releases her grip on my arm and bends down, rooting through junk. "That's it?"

"There were things in New Rome, too," I say, but she has found whatever she's looking for and isn't paying attention.

"Found it!" She displays a laptop, of all things. "It's to watch the disc on," she explains. "We're allowed laptops for special occasions—Annabeth has one for her architecture—but not for day-to-day use. So I hid this. Now to find…"

She hauls open the lid of a trunk, revealing row after row of DVD and Blu Ray discs. It takes her only a moment to pull out the right one, and then she tugs me down beside her, sliding the disc into the laptop and tossing the case away before I can get a good look at the cover.

"Let the show begin," she announces, and presses play.

* * *

Am I dead? I see bright light. Is that you, Dad?

Oh, wait. I'm not dead, I don't see Jupiter, and the bright light is coming from the fucking laptop.

Which is _still_ playing SpongeBob.

Apparently Piper wasn't satisfied that I endure only one episode of this accursed show, so she's forcing me to watch the entire disc, or at least as many episodes as she can fit in before lunch. I think we're on the fourth. Or is it the ninth?

The theme song starts up again, and so does my headache. How can most of America be infatuated with this?

The disgusting yellow thing is skipping along at some sort of underwater beach—how does that even work, anyway?—and is joined by some kind of grotesquely disproportionate crustacean.

Piper shuffles against me. "This one's my favorite," she tells me, deep brown eyes fixed on the screen.

She's the silver lining of this horrendous arrangement. Even though I'm stuck here staring at ridiculously designed characters and listening to glass-shattering laughs, I am none-too-subtly squished against her. The laptop is settled over our legs, so I have an excuse to be close. And because my shoulders are too broad for us to sit arm to arm comfortably, I can lean back, totally casually, and just barely slide my arm behind her, around her waist. You know. Totally casually.

Actually, I think Piper knows exactly what I'm doing, but so far she hasn't said anything and I'm sure as hell not going to.

I'm jolted out of my thoughts, which had been rocketed out of the PG zone when Piper kind of nestled into my side, by an obnoxiously loud "living like Larry!"

And, get this: Piper actually claps and shouts it back. But when she does it, it isn't annoying, it's almost…endearing.

Gods. I sound like an eighty year old woman.

Still, though, it is. So much that I shove down my fear and, with my heart in my throat, sit back against the moth-eaten green couch behind us and pull her with me.

I wonder if Piper can hear my heart beating wildly through my shirt, or if she notices the irregularity of my breaths. But her eyes stay fixed on the screen, and she doesn't acknowledge me at all, seeming to prefer to watch SpongeBob and Patrick ride some sort of rollercoaster of death.

Except.

She slides down, just a few inches, and then she shifts her head on my chest.

Holy. _Fuck._

I don't know whether to act indifferently blasé or passionately amorous.

Do I kiss her?

_(I'd like to, but…)_

On screen, SpongeBob and Patrick lament their idolization of Larry the lobster.

_(…what if it goes wrong?_

_If I'm no good?_

_If she doesn't want me to?_

_I just don't know)._

Ironically enough, Piper saves me from having to decide when she snaps shut the laptop and tugs me sharply to my feet.

"What?" I ask warily, extremely conscious of where her hands are wrapped around my wrists.

"I just thought of something," she says excitedly. "You hadn't seen SpongeBob, and that show's huge. What about other things?" She is getting more animated by the second, waving both our arms, eyes wide. "Do you know what 'lol' means?"

"Of course," I say, offended that she thinks I'm that far out of the loop. "Laugh out loud."

"What about 'yolo'? 'Lmfao'?" She pauses and her eyebrows knit. "Wait—do you even know who Lady Gaga is?"

"Lady _who_?"

"Oh my gods!" Piper is laughing now, and I would probably start to bristle except that she's hugging me. I can feel her shake as she laughs again, louder. A guffaw.

I hug her back as she lists a string of names I will never remember. "How about iPhones? The Hunger Games? Angry Birds? Walmart, the Kardashians, Nyan Cat, Sarah Palin? Do you know Michael Jackson died? Do you know who Michael Jackson is? Netflix? Family Guy? Pirates of the Caribbean? Anderson Cooper? Holy crap—Facebook? Twitter? Tumblr?" Unfortunately, she releases me. "Gods, Jason, do you at least know what Google is?"

I scowl and nod, feeling very small. Piper is clutching her sides. It is one of few times I have witnessed someone laugh so hard they have to bend over.

"We're not barbarians," I say gruffly.

"Okay. Okay." She holds up a hand. "It isn't like everyone knows those things, either. It's just…you didn't recognize _any_?"

I shrug, avoiding her gaze. "New Rome has computers and stores and things, but all the businesses are local—we can't have the connection to mortals that chain stores would cause—and the legions don't have much access to town. So…" I twist my hands in the pockets of my jeans. "I know some, yeah. We don't really follow politics, but I know who Sarah Palin is. And I know what Facebook is, but I don't have an account and neither does anyone I know."

"But what do you know about pop-culture?"

"What?"

"I'll take that as a 'nothing'." Piper picks up the laptop again, absently brushing off the dust that's accumulated on the screen. "So let's get you educated."

"No!" I hold up my hands. "Come on, Piper, I'm begging here. SpongeBob was bad enough. I don't need any more of that crap."

"It's not _all _crap," she says. Is that a touch of defensiveness I hear? "Some of it's actually pretty funny."

"Like Lady Gogo?"

"_Gaga_, and she's a musician. I meant like…" She turns the laptop back on, her forehead wrinkling as she mutters to herself: "If I can just—there!" She straightens, proudly shows me the two bars of connection she's managed to scrape up from Camp Half-Blood's desolate Wi-Fi, and we squish ourselves on that same green couch.

"What are you doing?" I ask warily as her fingers clatter over the keyboard, calling up new windows and resizing pages.

"I'm introducing you to the modern world. Here. Listen to this."

I squint at the title she's typed in. "The... Bed Intruder Song?"

"Yeah." As soon as the first metallic notes begin, she moves on to a new screen, pointing out political figures and books and artists. I don't take all of it in—there's too much information—but I watch when she gestures and slowly find myself beginning to understand, all the while with songs playing in the background; it's called YouTube, she explains.

She shows me 90's music, the NFL, Alexander McQueen, Ke$ha, the Annoying Orange, lava lamps. The conch sounds for lunch. Neither of us moves.

Our Internet expedition chugs on. I discover that I prefer Bach to Beethoven and that I am as far from hipster as they come. We take a quiz together, and we are in the House of Gryffindor, though I have no idea what that means. Another quiz predicts that I am an earthbender while Piper is an airbender. I ponder the inaccuracies of said quiz.

We're scrolling through the Billboard Top 100 when she pauses the music—Skrillex, I think—and turns to me. I've been trying to ignore how close she is, and I'd been doing a damn good job of it, if I do say so myself. But without the distraction of the computer, I can't breathe regularly or meet her eyes.

"I forgot something," she tells me.

"Yeah?" I say, hoping to sound mentally stable if not casual.

"Yeah," she says, and her stare is a little too intent and lasts a little too long and my heart is beating, thumping, marching straight out of my chest and over to hers.

"What?" I breathe, and I'm leaning and so is she, her head tilting, and my eyes are closed but her mouth ghosts my ear, not my lips, and whispers,

"We never watched any SpongeBob episodes with Patchy the Pirate."

She pulls back and I do too and I'd be frustrated and embarrassed but for her expression, those dark hazel eyes lingering over my lips, and I know she's teasing herself just as much as she's teasing me.

"We'll have to change that, then," I say in the same low hush. Her half-smile makes me think she's going to kiss me for real this time, but she only puts the disc back in.

I realize she just tricked me into watching more SpongeBob and feel less guilty about pressing as close to her as I can get as the kazoos start up.

I feel prepared; this Patchy guy can't be as bad as the rest of the show, right?

It doesn't take long to comprehend just how wrong I am. Patchy the Pirate is much, much worse. He and his parrot are spectacularly awful. Ghastly. Atrocious. Deplorable. Abominable, repulsive, horrendous. The bane of my very existence.

And all the while, Piper smiles at me from under her eyelashes and squirms next to me and generally makes me lose my sanity.

Fucking SpongeBob SquarePants.


	4. Sweet Romeo

**Jasper (As seen by Piper)**

"No! No! Please, I beg of you, if there is any compassion in your stone cold hearts at all—"

But Lacy and Mitchell still push me to the stage, and behind them I get a withering glare from Annabeth (who had immediately become my best friend upon my return from my quest, along with every other girl in camp besides Drew). I falter in my struggle, giving my captors a chance to shove me up the last few steps to the microphone.

I stare harshly back at the three of them, but plaster on a smile for the camp, which is spread out in front of me. I stand at the center of the arena, microphone clutched nervously in my sweaty hands as my knees knock together from fright (though I still look fabulous).

_How could my friends have done this to me? They are forcing me to showcase my beautiful, awe-inspiring voice for everyone!_ _Why would they want me to sing karaoke in front of the entire camp? I can't discern their motives at all!_

I nearly have a heart attack, staring out from under the spotlight at all those faces, but then I see Jason and Reyna sitting together and remember myself with a burst of fierce, blazing anger.

The first notes of Taylor Swift's Love Story blast from the concert-grade speakers, and I close my eyes and begin to sing. The music takes me away to another place; to a dirty school bus, to a boy with eyes that literally cannot be described unless by the phrase "electric blue", to the moment I looked over at him and knew he was different.

"I keep waiting for you, but you never come…"

I sneak a peek through half-closed eyes: Jason is smiling tenderly at me while that conniving man-stealer Reyna pouts.

"…I love you, and that's all I really know," I croon, and when Jason looks at me again I know he understands. My heart swells to bursting, and I have to hold back tears as I finish.

"'Cause we were both young…"

Everyone is on their feet, shouting, clapping, and still I forge courageously on.

"…When I first saw you."

I stumble off the stage to a standing ovation. My legions of female friends, including (but not limited to) Annabeth, Hazel, Thalia, Juniper, Katie, and Lacy, begin to hug and congratulate me, but I push past all of them and run away at a dead sprint, all the while trying not to hyperventilate. Singing that song had a very taxing effect on me.

I wander, unarmed, into the forest. Luckily, I am not attacked; if I was, I would surely die a slow and painful death.

I continue to wander, aimless, thinking about Jason, my one true love. When I was singing, I had thought I'd seen love in his gaze, but now I'm sure I just imagined it. Why would Jason love a lowly Aphrodite girl who is the daughter of a movie star and one of the most powerful demigods of this age? It's not as if I'm brave, pretty, funny, smart, tough, or likeable in the slightest. I'm basically a rock that breathes. But at least I'm braver, prettier, funnier, smarter, and tougher than that cunt Reyna.

I've ranted and vented enough for the day, so I'm turning back toward camp when I hear a noise. It's barely distinguishable and very faint, but it sounds like Reyna (that cunt!) whispering, "Even when you were gone, I always waited. Always." Of course, because the noise is barely distinguishable and very faint, I can't be sure of what I've heard. Still, I start in the direction of the sound, having no idea at all what it means.

I'm humming Love Story to myself when I round an incredibly dense grove of trees to see Jason and Reyna kissing passionately.

"No," I whisper hoarsely, feeling as if my pancreas has just exploded inside me. Too lost in each other, neither of them hears; I stand transfixed, watching as they practically dry hump each other, for approximately three minutes before I manage to tear myself away. Unfortunately, in my haste to escape from the agonizing scene, I barge directly into the grove of incredibly dense trees, and my vision goes fuzzy.

"Piper!" Jason calls. I stand shakily, backing away; when I put a hand to my forehead, my fingers are sticky with blood. Even in my wounded state, I limp away astonishingly quickly, tears streaming down my face as I look for a place to curl up and die.

_How could he do this to me? How could he abuse my Bella-esque devotion like this?_

I fall to the ground, seeking shelter against a gnarled oak. I curl into the fetal position, rocking myself slowly, as I wonder hopelessly why I'm not good enough. I never consider that it's Jason who is at fault, because he is flawless. It must be me who is blemished, me who is imperfect, me who is unlovable.

I am weighing the options of A) running away to Canada and becoming a hermit, B) staging an elaborate assassination of Reyna-the-cunt, or C) killing myself because without Jason I am nothing when I remember my head wound.

"Oh, well," I sigh. "At least this way I can die peacefully from blood loss."

A familiar voice, low and manly and highly attractive: "I don't think so."

I turn my back. "Go away, Jason."

"No."

I risk a glance at him, but damn I can't look away from those electric blue eyes. They pierce my very soul, and I can't help but ask weakly (as I am very weak), "Why?"

"Oh, sweet Pipes," Jason sighs, and even though I've told him multiple times never to call me that I don't really mind all that much. He wraps me in his distracting tanned and well-muscled arms, being careful not to jostle my still-bleeding head. "It's always been you, baby. It's only ever been you."

"But the cun—um, that is, Reyna," I protest-while-not-really-protesting.

"She kissed me," he says, and he is so forlorn and alone in that moment that I simply cannot stop myself from hugging him.

"It's okay," I say, and it is. Somehow I forget why I was even upset in the first place; Jason is the victim here. "I believe you."

"Good," he says, and I am entrance by those baby blues—excuse me, I mean those electric blues—as they move closer, closer…

He kisses me, and I'm in paradise, Elysium, the Fields of Aaru, heaven, Valhalla, jannat. I've broken samsãra. I've melted through the chocolate coating to the cream filling. I let myself relax, content as Jason massages my mouth with his lips, as I wipe blood out of my eyes occasionally. I want to be able to see every part of this magical, ethereal event.

We separate with a deliciously loud smack, gazing deeply at each other for a heavy moment. _He's so gorgeous_, I think.

"Where would I be without you?" I say instead.

Jason smiles at me. "Dead," he says lovingly, picking me up in his arms, and we laugh all the way back to camp.

* * *

**Jeyna (As seen by Reyna)**

**Pre-Switch**

I am reclining regally on my royally resplendent throne as I ruminate on my remarkably rattling past, remembering the rigors of my routine before I found refuge at Camp Jupiter, when the son of Jupiter himself roams in.

I offer him a cold nod and shift slightly away, scowling as I do so. I'll let you in on a secret: Jason and I are soul mates. We are desperately in love. My heart has been volatile ever since I first saw him, and as the weeks and years go by the pin is slowly being pulled out of the grenade. He makes my thoughts blur and melt, my dreams swirl and digress with possibility.

"Morning," he says.

I grimace and say nothing.

The only obstacle we must surpass before our love can bloom is his shyness. Though I know his love for me is profuse, he is not adept at showing emotion.

"So," Jason says, swinging himself into a chair across from me, "Did it hurt?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"When you fell from heaven." He grins, laughs.

"Shut up, Grace."

"Long day?"

"Endless."

"Yeah." He hunches forward, pokes my leg. "Look, you just seemed kind of tense. Sorry."

I swoon internally.

"Okay," I say gruffly, batting his hand away. "Thanks, I guess. But now we have to figure out how we're going to do about all the fauns on the east side."

His forehead wrinkles. "I thought it was the west side."

He's such a flirt.

"It's east," I say bitingly. "Concentrate."

"I am!"

"Concentrate more," I say, turning to grab the reports. "This is serious. You can't just wave your hand and walk away."

"I wasn't going to," he says, and there's an edge in his voice that wasn't there before. Ooh.

"We'll see," I say, and now he's scowling too.

Oh, the joys of love.

**Post-Switch**

He steps off the ship first, one hand raised as if to say "Please don't brutally kill me". As if I would ever let the legions hurt him.

On either side of him stands a tall girl with dark hair and a blond girl whose eyes rove over the gathered crowd, finally coming to a rest on… me?

No. She's staring at Percy, and out of the corner of my eye I see him staring just as intently back at her, his eyes wide, his expression unreadable. Interesting.

But there are more pressing matters than Percy's strange interactions with a Greek.

"Identify yourselves," I call, my voice ringing out above the rising crescendo of whispers and murmurs.

Jason gives me a bemused smile. "Jason Grace, Praetor."

I have goosebumps.

"And this," he says, turning to gesture at the blond girl, "Is Annabeth."

The light of Percy's smile rivals the sun.

"And this is Piper," he continues, now swiveling towards the dark girl—Navajo, maybe, or Cherokee; "is Piper."

The goosebumps disappear as quickly as they came.

I can't see Jason's face, but if he's looking at Piper anything like how she's looking at him I might just sic Aurum and Argentum on them.

But then he's turned back around and his smile is open, simple, and my heart is thudding in my chest because he's grinning like he always has.

"We want to talk," Piper soothes, the flow of the words like slow honey, and I want to talk to, I want to talk to her.

Until I don't, and white anger flares up, burning.

She dares to Charmspeak us? She _dares_?

She'll regret that later, I promise myself, but for now I only narrow my eyes, letting Percy give the rest of the speech.

It's after everyone has returned to their barracks or to the ship that I strike. Carefully slipping out of the control room of the Argo II, where I had been discussing the looming conflict with Annabeth (who I am beginning to like quite a lot), I snake through the corridors, stopping in front of Cabin 5.

I ease the door open, sending Leo a silent thank you for the oiled hinges. I've never been in a cabin before and it takes a moment for me to orient myself. Against the left wall is a dark rectangle I assume is a dresser, and next to it sits a desk. I turn to the right wall: bingo.

I glide over the wooden floor, an unfamiliar knife heavy in my hand. Her eyes are closed, her hair strewn across the pillow. Her lips are parted slightly.

I make it quick.

After wiping the knife and wrapping it in Piper's listless hands, after knotting a sheet tightly over the wound, after absently wiping away the thin blood trail that has rivuleted down over her collarbone, I have the startling thought that I have just murdered a girl.

It is not as troubling as it should be.

An exhale, and I whirl, across the room before I know what's going on with my hands around Jason's throat, because that's who it is.

He stares at me; I stare back.

He pries off my fingers, looks past me.

"Reyna?"

"She's dead," I say, locking my gaze on him. "It's better this way."

"Why?"

I shake my head. "Don't you see anything?"

"What—"

I kiss him, a sterile kiss marked only by a brief press of my mouth to his. We look at each other.

"Reyna," he says again, his voice rough, and his hand is on my neck and our heads are tilted and he's kissing me this time, his fingers knotting hard in my hair, insistent.

"I love you," he says.

"Don't mention it," I say, and glance at the dead girl in the bed one more time before kissing him again.

* * *

**How It Should Be (As seen by Jason)**

I strut through New Rome, on top of the world. We just won a war. I grin from ear to ear.

And now, as I walk toward the Argo II, I imagine the scene I will find. An exclusive celebration, Annabeth had said. Just us, the prophecy children and our friends, on a warship that converts very nicely into a party ship.

I practically skip up the gangplank. And along with the party itself, there are two girls waiting for me. Can life get any better?

Because I never specifically decided who I liked more, Reyna, Piper, and I are in a sort of don't-ask-don't-tell relationship. It's like having two girlfriends (who sometimes fight, and I get to watch).

So the last thing I expect is to find my way through the press of people and stumble on both girlfriends arm in arm, plastic cups clutched in their hands, singing Beyoncé's Run the World (Girls) at the top of their lungs.

"Hey," I say cautiously. Piper is the first to notice me, she smiles, but it's dangerous, something reptilian in the way her lips curl back over her teeth.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she says, and thrusts her cup at me. Something dark slops out of it onto my shirt.

"Piper, what the hell? Are you guys drunk?"

"Who run this motha? Girls!" Reyna screeches, and they both burst into laughter.

I'm getting annoyed. "Talk to me already!"

"No!" shouts Piper, and they high five.

"We're dumping you," Reyna states, swaying slightly.

"_What?"_

"Yep." Piper waves an unsteady finger in my face. "Took…too long, honey."

"What the fuck? You can't just—"

"My persuasion," drawls Piper, "can build a nation."

"Endless power, with our love we can devour," Reyna adds, and they're swallowed by the ship, still singing Run the World as I wonder what the hell just happened.

Goddamn girlfriend unions.


	5. Five

1. Illusion

It's early, and the fog that drifts in from the sea blends the horizon into shades of blue and gray. She huddles in on herself, knees drawn up to her chest, and shivers in the morning air. Her hair hangs in wet strands, draped across her cheeks. Her fingers are wet with dew, not tears, but only because crying is too insignificant a thing to do at a time like this.

She digs her toes into the sand, watches the ocean rush up and slink back. Dark half-moons mark her arms where her nails have cut in. A hint of sunrise shines, pearly through the clouds.

She breathes, closes her eyes. Rocks slowly back, then forward, and continues even when a hand settles heavy on her shoulder.

"Hey." Of course it's Jason. No one else would dare approach her when she's like this.

She doesn't respond and he sits stiffly beside her, his left leg still awkward and unbalanced from month old wounds. She turns away, hunching in on herself, and he sighs.

"Come here." He finds her hand, prying it away from her arm to pull her closer. She holds her spine rigid even as her back touches his chest, and when his breath ghosts over her neck she flinches. But once his arms circle her waist, she's gone; she slumps against him, clutching his sleeves with desperate fingers, and the cries that wouldn't come now pour out in a low, keening weep.

"You're okay," he murmurs, swaying them slightly. "You're okay. Let it out."

She gulps, swiping at her nose. Her dignified crying is on the verge of a breakdown. "No—no—no—" She can't remember what she wanted to say, but the stuttered syllable is clear enough. She hiccups, and when she speaks again her words are slippery and wet. "It's not fair—"

He kisses the side of her head, and now she's bawling full force. Her breaths are ragged, heaving, and she's nearly incomprehensible as she fumbles to whisper, "Not _fair._"

"I know." He traces circles on her palms. "It isn't. But honey, it isn't your fault. You don't need to beat yourself up like this."

"I could have _been _there."

"No, you couldn't." He catches her chin, tilts her face so they're looking at each other. "Piper. This is not your fault. And I understand that you're grieving. I am too. But—"

"But," she begins, catching a swelling breath before it can escape as a sob, "my dad—my—"

He holds her tighter. "You don't have to talk about it so soon."

She shakes her head, pulls an arm free of his embrace to wave angrily at the sea, the sky, life in general. "I have to. I _have_ to. I…"

His grip on her loosens and she panics, scrambling to turn around. "Don't leave."

"I wasn't going to." He takes her hand and squeezes it. "I'm staying right here."

She closes her eyes, shudders out a breath. "I know. I'm just—just not feeling right." She smiles weakly, lifting her face to the pale yellow glow of the sun on the horizon. A bird caws somewhere in the forest behind them, and suddenly everything needs to be told. "He's _dead_, he was killed—and some maniac… She didn't even _know _him. And now he's dead and I can't even catch a flight until tomorrow and I _miss _him."

He is silent, and she wonders if she's given too much too fast. Then he says, "I can ask Thalia to have Zeus take you home. She's at camp with the Hunters."

She sniffles, wiping her eyes. "When did she get here?"

"After you ran off." He pauses, adds, "Which you didn't have to do. Everyone understands, and I'm not letting you go that easily."

She hugs her jacket to her sides. "I can't go alone. I can't."

"I know, and I'm coming with you. So is Leo."

She turns to bury her face in his chest. "Thank you."

His voice is soft, gentle. "Don't mention it."

Her heart sends out another spasm of emotion, and she wants to speak but she can't. Her throat is closing around a sob and she lets it, succumbs, and still they sway.

In her ear, he whispers, "You're okay. You're okay."

* * *

2. Something Good Can Work

The sun has long set by the time they've all come out, and the dim yellow light of the lamps softens the tension and anxiety. A seagull prowls the deck.

Leo raises his red plastic cup, sloshing dark liquid over the rim. "Guys! We almost forgot to toast!"

"That's a retarded idea," Clarisse grouches, adding a muttered "Punk" for good measure.

"Toast to what?" Annabeth asks diplomatically, delicately pushing the cup she had been given away.

"To not getting killed tomorrow," Leo says.

Jason frowns. "They wouldn't kill us."

"Still," insists Leo. "It'd be good luck."

Piper snorts. "Since when has luck done anything for us?"

Leo sighs. "Come on, guys."

"I'll do it." Annabeth picks up her cup. "We're going to need all the luck we can get."

Piper rolls her eyes but holds up her cup, and Jason does too. Clarisse steps up grudgingly.

Leo throws back his shoulders. "To not getting slaughtered by Jason's camp."

And they toast.

* * *

3. Strawberry Swing

Leo used to tease them with an old playground rhyme; "Jason and Piper, sitting in a tree…"

It worked well to annoy them before they were together, but now whenever he says it they just smile and do what the rhyme says.

* * *

4. Brown Eyed Girl

Neither of them can dance, but that's never stopped them before.

* * *

5. Keep Holding On

It's difficult. He isn't used to missing people. He was taken from his family before he could really know them, and everyone he knew lived within a two mile radius. Sometimes a friend would go down in battle, but although he had felt the pain of the legions he had never been affected personally. So now, when he's just been reunited with his sister and found a whole new family at Camp Half-Blood, he has no idea how to deal with missing them.

Of course, he has his friends at Camp Jupiter to keep him company. And he's ecstatic to be with them again, but at the same time he feels like a glass half empty. Bobby is funny and lighthearted, but he lacks Leo's sarcasm and snark. Reyna is a fantastic friend and a better leader, but sometimes he finds himself wishing for Annabeth's clear thinking and her easy way with plans.

Worst is Piper.

He's been conflicted about her for months, and the way she'd given him a tiny wave instead of hug when he left only made him more confused. They share underhand looks and they walk too close together, but he isn't even sure that she likes him _that way_ and for all he knows she might have a boyfriend now. He hopes she doesn't have one. The next time he goes back to Camp Half-Blood, he wants to take her to a movie. But right now Camp Jupiter needs him, and only later will he be able to visit again.

Until then, he hopes. But…

It's difficult. He isn't used to missing people.


	6. Thick and Thin

_Came but for friendship, and took away love_

Thomas Moore

* * *

Jason finds Piper burying fork after fork into a tree. The pile of cutlery beside her, impressive as it is, seems to be only a third of what she's brought out-the forest around her shines silver with prongs and handles.

"Got something against silverware?"

She starts, and when she turns her eyes are angry. "Fuck, Jason. Don't sneak up on me."

Jason decides not to point out that he was nearly stomping, or that she's sworn. He's never heard her swear before. It makes him uncomfortable.

"Sorry," he says lamely instead, and leans carefully against an un-forked tree. "I was just-"

"Yeah?" Okay, something is definitely wrong. Piper loves her sarcasm, yes, but she doesn't snap at people. She teases, pokes. Doesn't snap.

And that was a snap.

Jason scratches a hand through his hair. "Um, I was looking for you."

Piper launches a fork. It spins in the air, and a wood nymph bolts from the tree it's targeted at. Jason tightens his fingers into a fist, controlling the air around the fork, and the projectile skids to a stop in midair, dropping to the carpet of browning leaves below only inches from the bark. The nymph stalks out from behind a bush, glares at both demigods, and hops back in.

"Are you mad at me?" Jason blushes as soon as he says it; it's so petty, so shallow- such a childish thing to ask. And Piper obviously has bigger issues.

She snorts and digs the toe of a ratty sneaker into the dirt. "No."

What could it be? "Are you mad at Leo? Or Drew?" _Gods, great job thinking outside the box, Jason._

Piper laughs, but it doesn't have depth. "No. I'm buddies with everyone."

Why can't she just tell him? "Then what?"

Piper picks up another fork, twirls it in her fingers. "We're friends, right, Jason?"

"Yeah…?"

"But we didn't know each other from before. You and I became friends in practically a day."

Jason nods. "I guess so."

"Did you know that Leo and I weren't all that close before camp? I mean, we were, but not like we are now."

Where is this going?

"Leo might've mentioned it," Jason says. Piper still looks ready to murder, so he presses on, "But that's what quests do, right? Bring people together? I mean, look at Annabeth, Grover, and Percy. They went on one quest and then they were best friends."

Piper tosses the fork back to its pile and leans against a tree of her own. She's maybe four feet away, but her hair hides her face and Jason can't imagine what she's thinking. "Today at lunch, Jen had already eaten two hotdogs, and when she was taking another, I said, 'Come on, Jen, you'll be sick,' and her eyes kind of glazed and she said, 'I'll be sick,' and she put it back."

"Piper, making sure your kids don't throw up isn't a bad thing."

"Yeah, well, what about charmspeaking people into liking me?"

Jason laughs out loud. Piper glares, and he puts up his hands. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but people like you because of who you are, not because you can pretty-talk."

"Are you sure? Because I think _your head's not screwed all the way on_."

Jason touches his ear. He feels…wrong. Backwards. "I-" He frowns. "Is there something…" Is he looking at the trunk? But his feet don't match his vision; why are his thumbs on that side of his hand? "What- my neck- it's the other way-"

"_No, it's not_," Piper says, and once his head clears Jason sees her shoulders slumped.

"See?" she says. "I can make you think whatever I want."

Jason is disconcerted. He didn't know how thoroughly charmspeak worked until now, and to be truthful, it scares him a little. If the wrong person is gifted, they can do anything.

But Piper isn't the wrong person.

He shakes his head. "But you did that on purpose. And you don't purposely charmspeak people."

Piper persists. "What about that BMW? I just asked. I didn't try, but he still gave it to me. What if I charmspeak all the time and never realize it?" She doesn't have to finish the thought for Jason to understand. _What if all this time I've thought I've had friends and it was a lie?_

"Why do you think you're so bad? I like you just fine. More than that. I like you a lot," Jason says, and promptly feels his cheeks heat. "I mean, like-"

"A friend," Piper says, and smiles. This time, her smile is real, so Jason doesn't know why the word sounds so grating and unnatural, like it's the worst possible thing she could call him.

(Well…he knows _exactly_ why).

"Yeah," he agrees, and pushes on before he can depress himself too much about being friendzoned. "Exactly. You're my friend, and that's not fake." He takes a breath, decides not to censor his thoughts. "It has nothing to do with Charmspeak. People like you because…because, seriously, you're one of the most likeable people I've ever met."

"That's circular logic," she says, but she still smiles.

He races to think of something else. "Okay. You're right. But it's still true. I don't know how I could _not _like you. You're funny in that dry, sarcastic way, and you're always optimistic."

"Always optimistic?" Piper gestures at the trees behind her, their boughs littered with forks. "That's not what it looks like to me."

"You're usually optimistic," he argues. "Which is why it's kind of weird that you're so worked up about this."

She shifts. "I know it might not be important to you, but it is to me." And she turns her back, grabbing another fork.

Shit. Now what?

Jason can't think, and he knows something major is happening. And it needs to turn out okay. _She_ needs to turn out okay.

So he does the first thing that comes to mind, and he hugs her.

It's awkward. His arms are around her from behind and her hair is in his face, and she's tense and unmoving. Jason doesn't know whether it'd be worse to stop or not, but Piper decides for him when she shrugs him off.

"Sorry," he says, and he's blushing.

"It's okay," she says stiffly, but her eyes are warm. "It might work better if you did it the right way, though."

He stares dumbly at her, trying to figure out what she means, before understanding and tackling her into a hug, this time the usual way. Her arms come up around him and he rests his chin on her shoulder, and everything feels all right again.

"I'm floating," says Piper.

"What?"

She nudges him with her foot; they're hovering a few inches off the ground. "I'm floating."

Jason drops them back to the forest floor. "Oh. Sorry."

"I never said it was a bad thing," she says, and tightens her hold around him. "Sometimes it's nice to get away from it all, you know?"

"I definitely know," he says. Clears his throat, adds, "And if you ever want to get away together, that wouldn't be any trouble."

"You mean it?"

He nods into her neck, and this hug has lasted much longer than a typical hug. "I mean it."

"Thanks. I... thanks," Piper says, and he pretends not to notice her drop her handful of forks.

"Does this mean you believe me?"

"It means I'll think about it," she says, and for now that's good enough.

* * *

(They pull the forks out of the trees together).


	7. love you bbies

**Guys.**

**I'm putting Along the Way on hiatus (along with all my other fics). Partly because I can't think of anything substantial, but mostly because I am going to do a 30 day Jasper challenge.**

**Which means one drabble per day. For a month.**

**I can pretty much guarantee I'll fail at the steady updates, but I'm going to try my darndest to give it a good run. It would mean the world if all you nice people occasionally came over and watched my struggles. The fic is going to be called Seasons, and each day will have a theme. As of now I'll be using a premade theme list, but I'm always open to suggestions. **

**Anyway. The epic tale begins now.**

* * *

**Now that that announcement is out of the way, I am going to ramble a little about how awesome you guys are.**

**This fic is my first to reach a hundred reviews (at least on this ffnet account). And it's only six chapters long. And those chapters are pretty mediocre. Thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed, favorited, or followed Along the Way these past months, and to those of you who PMed me or who hung out with me when I played hooky on tumblr. It's been amazing, and I never expected such a response to a simple oneshot series. You're all so marvelously intelligent and incredibly supportive and you all write so gorgeously well and this is quite frankly a wonderful place to give my little fic a home.**

**Tremendous thanks to all of you.**

**So. DFTBA. And I'll see you later tonight with the first chapter of Seasons.**


	8. Pandora

**I'm counting this as my Seasons update for the day. U mad bro?**

* * *

Piper twists her knife deep in the side of the monster and it howls, golden blood burbling out of its mouth, before disintegrating into dust.

Something rakes her shoulder and she ducks, dispatching the lumbering thing with one swift cut. She and her friends mow down row after row of monsters, but no matter how many they take out, more still pour forth. _At least we managed to close the Doors of Death_, she thinks. _Otherwise this would be impossible._

To her right, Leo is burning dozens of monsters with his fire. A hydra rears up and he blasts it with white-hot flame, killing it before it even has a chance to roar. Frank shoots an arrow and leaps, transforming into a polar bear in midair and landing squarely on a pack of blue-skinned creatures with bulging eyes. His claws tear through most of them, but two manage to get in good hits before they disappear. Frank stumbles back, red seeping from his shoulder, and snarls.

As she glimpses her friends fighting around her, her heart sinks. Annabeth is helping Hazel beat back a basilisk, but they don't really know each other's fighting style and they're clumsy. Percy is surrounded and he's doing as good of a job as he always does, but not even he can fight exhaustion. As Piper watches, he gets nicked once, and then again and again.

Coach Hedge has long past gone down. Frank is struggling to hold his ground. Piper herself can't feel three of her fingers.

They fight, and they're losing.

The sky lights up and a whole section of monsters are incinerated by a lighting strike. It is a risky move on Jason's part; lightning takes a lot out of him, and now the monsters know he's powerful and will focus on him. Jason is never risky; Piper's hope deflates even more when she realizes how desperate he must be.

_Saving the world,_ she chants to herself. _Saving the world_.

It's the thoughts are magic. The monsters immediately slink away, growling and pawing but retreating nonetheless. The demigods' eyes are wide as they watch, and they begin rubbing their wounds and murmuring nervously to each other as the last monster disappears.

Everything has gone still.

"Is it over?" Hazel asks timidly.

"Of course not, child," glides a voice. They all unconsciously step back as a figure begins to form from the darkness. "It is never over."

Cavernous yellow eyes stare out at them, and soon they can make out a pale face. The mouth is open, cavernous, and the lips are blood red. It towers above them, at least thirty feet tall. The cheeks are high and sculpted. She is beautiful.

She is Gaia.

Gaia laughs as she walks—no, floats—towards them. "You've come so far, little demigods. I am surprised. I shall make this painless for you."

They glare at her with hardened eyes. Piper tightens her grip on her knife.

"_Leave_," she commands, putting as much conviction in her voice as she can muster.

Gaia stops, blinking. She turns halfway around, beginning to move back in the direction she came from. Piper can hear Frank's sigh of relief.

"Ha!" cries Gaia, spinning around, and they all jump. "Insolent girl! Your petty tricks will not work on me. I am all powerful, demigods. The sooner you learn it…" she raises her hands, a wickedly curved lance appearing in her hands, "the better!"

"Wait!" Annabeth shouts, striding forward. She tosses down her knife and Percy grabs her arm as she passes him, tugging her back.

Piper can't hear what he says to her, but Annabeth only shakes her head, kisses him quickly, and pushes him off. Percy's face when she continues to walk looks as openly terrified as Piper has ever seen it.

Annabeth stops a few yards in front of Gaia and crosses her arms. "I have a proposition."

Gaia snickers. "There is nothing of worth you can offer to me."

"Except this." Annabeth puts her hand in her pocket, drawing out a tiny stone and holding it between two fingers for the earth goddess to see.

Piper has no idea what it is, and judging by the looks on their faces, neither do the rest of her friends. But Gaia looks thrilled.

"Pandora," she whispers, and then looks at Annabeth. "It is—"

"The Hope Stone," Annabeth confirms. Behind Piper, Jason gasps; he must've realized what it is the same time Piper did.

The last thing in Pandora's Box. The one that didn't escape. Hope.

If Annabeth gives it to Gaia, all is lost.

Percy calls out. "Annabeth, don't!"

But it's too late. "Foolish child!" Gaia cries, ripping the stone from Annabeth's grasp. "You stand no chance against me now. I will rule this world for eternities!"

Gaia clutches the stone in her fist, about to crush it, when Annabeth speaks up.

"Wait."

And she draws out another stone, exactly like the one Gaia holds in her hand.

The goddess's face drains.

"You may hold Hope," Annabeth says, and Piper can hear the steel in her voice. "Or you may hold your own stone—Wrath. And you know what happens if you crush Wrath."

Piper remembered. If a being ties their essence to an element of Pandora, they would change with the nuances and fluctuations of the element. If Annabeth was right and Gaia was tied to Wrath, then if she crushed the stone, she would destroy herself.

…But if she held Hope, then all beings who were tied to hope would be destroyed.

"Every demigod will die," breathes Leo. Then, louder, "All of us will die."

Annabeth stands. Gaia thinks.

The other six wait.

"If you have Wrath, why don't you just crush it?" calls Frank.

Annabeth doesn't turn. "Even if I did hold Wrath, I don't have the power. Only a higher being can break something this ancient and strong."

And Piper's brain stumbles over a plan.

It's stupid and simple and easy.

Annabeth has Hope. Piper knows it. The daughter of Athena would never show all her cards, especially not to a loose cannon like Gaia.

Gods, she'd better be right.

"Don't drop your lance," Piper shouts to Gaia.

Unthinkingly, the goddess shifts her weapon to her other hand, the one holding the stone.

Gaia's fingers tighten.

The little rock is caught between an immortal being and an otherworldly metal.

It cracks.

So does Gaia.

She makes a cumbersome step forward, screeching and clawing at herself, whirling the lance around. The demigods duck as one, and Percy is already running, stabbing Riptide into her leg. Eagle-Frank tears at the goddess's eyes and Hazel traps Gaia's feet with earth. Jason pulls strike after strike of lightning from the sky as Annabeth cuts and slices.

And Piper speaks.

"You're dropping it," she says. "Hold it tighter. Your fingers are slipping. Grip. Don't let it fall. _Don't let it fall._"

Gaia moans, and the last bit of Wrath shatters beneath her hand. The goddess is sucked down, away. To Tartarus, hopefully forever this time.

They did it.

They actually won.

Everyone is grinning and shouting, and Annabeth is running, running…

Running past Percy's outstretched arms?

And she barrels into Piper and hugs her so tight Piper knows neither of them can breathe, and she says, "I knew you would understand."

They break apart, and Annabeth smiles at her. "I knew you would."

And then she turns back and launches herself at Percy, and they're kissing. Leo is high-fiving Hazel and Frank is beaming and Jason taps her shoulder and kisses her cheek, and they did it.

They're standing in the middle of a ruined Pantheon and they're hurting and they're bleeding. And they did it. Gaia's gone. The world is safe.

She looks at her friends, and they're all smiling. So is she.

It's time to put the next foot forward. It's time to turn over a new leaf.

Their lives have only just begun.

* * *

**I would really, really, really love feedback on this. I never write action-what do you think of it?**


	9. Golden

**For those of you who are still being amazing people and asking for more, this is my 'goodbye-I'm-on-hiatus-now' gift. I'm tired of ffnet (and tired of all the hating I've seen in my short stay here), so unless I have an overpowering urge to post here or somebody miraculously convinces me otherwise then I won't be uploading any more, at least not right now. I'm really sorry if I let you down, but this isn't a good place for me. Here's some pre-MoA stuff that's been sitting on my laptop for ages—just be thankful I'm taking a break from ffnet, because when I began this it was intended to end in Liper. I've met lots of wonderful people on here, and I haven't forgotten you. I'll still be writing on tumblr and some other places, just not here. Thanks for the stories.**

* * *

_You see I am no criminal, I'm down on both bad knees._

_I'm just too much a coward to admit when I'm in need._

Passion Pit_, "Take a Walk"_

* * *

I can't sleep. The Argo II is silent and still. Leo anchored us for the night above the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean, and I can't tell if it's all the water or just my worry that keeps me awake.

I stare at the ceiling, thinking. It's cold in my room and I shiver, drawing the blanket closer. Stars glimmer out the window, and I can barely make out the wooden beams that arch over my head.

I think about tomorrow. I bite my lip.

Tomorrow we arrive. None of us really know what we're going to do, but we know that once again the world is sitting on our shoulders.

(Annabeth has told me stories of the sky, and I don't know if I'll be able to survive the weight.)

Rain drizzles against the window and the sleeping ship creaks and squeaks. The more I think about the oncoming war, the more I wish we could turn around and go back to San Francisco. I'm supposed to be Jason Grace. _The_ Jason Grace, who defeated a Titan with his bare hands and saved thousands of people. But I don't feel that way. I feel tired. I feel frightened.

I feel...average.

There is a knock on the door.

I groan and force myself out of bed. The cold air crinkles around me as I straighten, and for a second the sheer immensity of life, of the future, bends me double and squeezes the breath from my lungs.

I push it back, swallow it down. And I open the door.

"Piper?"

She doesn't say anything. She stands, lingers, in the hallway, in an oversized shirt and with eyes that yearn.

"Come in," I say, and she does.

I am suddenly frigid, and as we stay standing next to the door my mind freezes, too. I don't know what to do. It's a bitter realization: there is nothing I can do. I can't stop the future and I can't save the past.

She speaks and it's soft. "I didn't... I couldn't be alone this time."

I hold out my arm, splay my fingers for her to take. She curls her hand into mine and we step through the darkness to the bed. We lay together. I can feel the heat of her. It warms me where I lie beside her.

I am exhausted, but I don't want to fall asleep just yet. There's been something mounting between us for a while now, and I want to be awake when it peaks.

But the longer my eyes stay open, the more overwhelmed I feel, until I'm nearly shaking.

She breathes, and I tremble.

I close my eyes, but the tears keep coming.

She has my face cradled in her hands, and the blanket is twisted over and between us as she turns on her side and I turn on mine and I cry into her palms. Her hands burn feverish where they slide across my back.

When I'm upset, I don't sob or wail or gulp. When I'm upset, my tears are silent. But what I'm feeling is much more than that.

I'm not upset. I'm angry, and I'm betrayed, and I'm scared, and it's worse than I thought. I've never had to console myself before, which seems to be a good thing-I'm shit at it.

I sniffle pitifully into her shoulder, and her hands feel tiny where they rub smooth patterns on my spine.

"Do you think we'll lose?" she whispers.

I don't. I'm not crying because I doubt our strength. I am certain we will overcome this. I just don't know whether I will.

"No," I say, my voice watery. "I know we can-and will-beat Gaia. It's just..."

It's just that I might lose my sanity in the process.

She doesn't ask, and I don't tell.

And she helps ease me down. I touch her waist and her hair, and the low keening noise coming from my mouth lessens to warbling breaths and deep sighs. At another time I would've been ashamed that she's seeing me like this, but now...it's Piper. I don't need to be self conscious around her.

I don't need to hide.

I muffle the last of my tears with the pillow, and her breath warm on my neck is a world of comfort. Out the window, a gray dawn is just beginning to glow through the rain.

"Okay?" she murmurs.

"Okay," I say,

It's three in the morning and I spent the last hour literally spilling my emotions. And though my heart is still heavy, my faith has been renewed.

I'm not average. I'm Jason Grace.

I'm Jason Grace, and Piper McLean has fallen asleep at my side, and the first strands of the sun's pale orange are streaking the sky. My eyes finally drift closed.

Today, we arrive. Today, we begin.

* * *

**Thanks for sticking with me. Maybe someday I'll come back, but for now, it was nice. Don't cry too hard over MoA.**

**ps: I see all you people coming at me with pitchforks. Please don't.**


	10. (and how we have changed)

**Update:**

**I am writing Jasper. 15k words atm.**

**I am surprised as you are.**

**It will not be a part of Along the Way. I think this series may (?) have run its course, though I'm not decided.**

**(You guys should tell me all the good fics I missed while I was gone.)**

**It's nice to see familiar authors. Hullo new people as well.**

**See you soon,**

**Rachel**


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